The Bard
by ZKS
Summary: How do legends come into existence? Only the Bards know. TWOSHOT
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Welcome to my first attempt to write something in the fairy tale relm. I know that strictly speaking this isn't a spin off on a known fairy tale, but it does follow the idea that these tales start from something real...**

**I hope you enjoy it. Any comments and feedback, good or bad are cherished!**

The young man with light brown hair and sharp eyes stepped out of the forest. It was nearing sunset as he finally left the trees and entered into a small meadow. Spring was just reaching the area. The grass was mostly matted and brown, yet there were small green sprigs visible if one looked closely. A cool breeze lifted his long hair off his back as he noticed a small hut at the edge of the clearing, near what appeared to be the seldom traveled path that he had lost several hours previously. He cocked his head to the side and wondered if anyone lived there. It was an isolated place for someone to live. He resettled his traveling sack before heading towards the setting sun.

The meadow's center was marshy, so he skirted it as he quickly headed towards the house. He would not be able to make it all the way into town before dark, and he had no desire to spend another night in the forest. If no one lived in the home, he'd be able to sleep there, and if someone did, perhaps he could tell a few stories for entertainment in exchange for room and board for the night.

As he neared the structure, he heard a loud bleating. He followed the sound to the other side and stopped short as he found a healthy black sheep standing near an open window. He paused, startled as if he'd seen an apparition. Black animals of any kind were considered bad omens. The fact that this one hadn't been killed as a lamb was surprising. What was even more so, was that it appeared to be well taken care of. A moment later, his eyes caught sight of movement within the house. Obviously the place was occupied. Glancing wearily at the sheep, he cleared his throat before shouting a greeting.

Several moments later a young woman with long, thick black hair and eyes to match stood in the open doorway. She eyed the man for a moment before asking, "can I help ye?"

His eyes lingered on her appearance as he took stock of her simple, sable clothes, tiny waist and bare feet. "May I speak with the master of the abode?" He asked, a charming smile breaking across his mouth.

The woman nodded imperceptibly before saying "what's your business here, sir?"

"That's for the master of the house to know," he replied tiredly. He was not in the mood to deal with an obviously eccentric and self important housewife.

"I don't expect you'll get much out of her when you don't tell her," she replied sharply.

It took a minute for him to register what she said. "You live alone, milady?"

A self satisfied smile flickered across her face, showing pearly, even teeth. "Quite," she replied before turning her attention to the black sheep that was accosting her hand. She ran her small hands through its wool as she continued to look at the man, obviously waiting for an answer.

After pausing a moment, he spoke again. "Forgive me milady, my name is Caley. I am traveling to Snowcrest. I lost the path through the woods and I am afraid I will not make it there tonight."

The woman nodded. "True enough. No one uses the old road now."

Caley grinned. "So I see, but this was the only road I knew." There was a pause that was filled only by the rustling of the wind in the trees behind them. "May I ask your name, milady?"

"My name is Moriah Mercedes of Snowcrest, but most know me a Moria."

Caley smiled widely at her openness. It was rare to find a woman who was forward enough to speak more than a few sentences, yet Moria did that and looked him directly in the eye, almost as if challenging him to say something. "It is a pleasure, Moria. May I ask why you are here alone?"

Moria bristled slightly before narrowing her eyes. "What do you know of this land?"

Caley smirked. "I have traveled much here, I am aware of most customs."

"You know of oracles?"

"You are too young to be one."

"Not as young as you think," she countered.

"But not so old as to have learned to old ways to completion."

Moria nodded in acknowledgement. "You are right, I do not know all the old ways, but I do know the ways of people, and this helps me to guide them."

He nodded his understanding and looked at the setting sun. "Then Madame Oracle, would you grant this humble supplicant shelter for the night?" He bowed low in a manner used when he was called before royalty. He raised his eyes slightly, searching her face for favor.

Moria kneeled in the dirt next to the ewe that still stood by her. "What do you think, Aisly? Shall we let him stay with us?" The ewe bleated softly before turning to Caley and nudging his hand with her nose.

The motion surprised the worldly traveler, for it seemed the ewe understood her mistress. "How?" he whispered softly as he absently patted her black head.

Moria smiled, "I know someone is of good heart when Aisly welcomes them. When she doesn't, I've found it best to avoid them. I think she can smell fear and anxiety, two traits that show lack of heart."

Caley stood studying Moria for several long moments. "Perhaps they are right to have you as an oracle," he finally said.

She laughed bitterly. " It wasn't my wisdom, sir Bard, that earned me my post. It was their fear of what would happen if I stayed."

"How did you know I was a bard?"

"You carry lute in your pocket and a bag that is too light to be all clothes and too fat to be empty, I'm guessing that is your paper and quills. Your hands are also stained with ink. You could be a scholar I suppose, but they rarely travel."

Caley grinned broadly. "That was a magnificent deduction!"

Moria looked to the ground, seemingly embarrassed by his complement. Her eyes wandered across the meadow and she realized it was quickly becoming dark. "Perhaps you should come inside, I'm simply fetching some wood for a fire, and then we'll see what I can do for an evening meal." She motioned him inside before she strode to a pile of dead tree limbs that had be stacked away from the house. Moments later she reappeared with an armload and began to coax a fire to life.

Caley anxiously asked if he could help. He was fascinated by this unusual woman, and wanted to gain her favor. Perhaps she would allow him to stay another day before he had to face the condescension of court in the growing town below them.

When dinner was finished, Caley reached into his breeches and brought out his lute. "What kind of story does milady wish to hear?"

Instead of answering his question, Moria posed one of her own. "Don't you think the night lends itself to silence rather than merriment? I think the darkness scares people and so they make merry to frighten it away."

"I had never thought of that, though to be honest silence is not something that often surrounds me."

"No, I don't imagine so."

Caley listened to the silence that enveloped the room. At first it was uncomfortable, like standing naked on a winter day. Slowly, as he began to analyze the quality that the silence held, he no longer felt uncomfortable. His thoughts began to blur and merge as they found tangents he'd never followed to places he'd never seen. Quickly, he got up and grabbed his pack from where it laid by the door. He motioned to the table in question. Moria simply nodded before he began to spread his ink, quills and paper out. Life and death flew from his fingers in an epic struggle between man and beast, gods and mortals, and even the earth itself. He strove to write quietly, lest the inspiring silence be broken.

After filling several sheaves, he looked up to see Moria asleep in her chair, her bare feet tucked underneath her skirt, and her long hair flowing down her back. The firelight cast a reddish tint to her hair, making it look like it was bursting into dark flames. The picture before him created a story in his mind. One mixed with the lore of old and the reality of the new. _There once lived a woman, no a Goddess, that loved life and people and learning. For her love, she paid a high debt though. She met a man and fell in love. She taught him the knowledge of the Gods and the ways of people. The knowledge was too much for the young man, and it finally drove him mad. The Goddess fled from the place where her beloved killed himself, vowing never to interfere again. However the Gods did not accept the life that the young man had taken. The Goddess pleaded with the Gods, and the Sun, Moon and Stars to have mercy on him and her for what had happened. As punishment, the Gods condemned her to watch the death of those who are killed, mourning them in the stead of her beloved. _

_Thereafter, and eerie wailing could be heard throughout the land whenever someone was killed. However, her understanding of what drives someone to kill, either themselves or others, causes to her to extend mercy on them and protect them from justice. So it is that the beautiful mourner known as Moria came into existence. _

The following morning, Moria woke at dawn. She had a crick in her neck from sitting in a chair all night. Someone had covered her with the black wool blanket on her bed. The recollection of her visitor caused her to sit upright and look around. Her home was a silent as always. The only sign that there had been someone else there was a paper, written in an elegant hand. She sat and read the story twice, before turning it over. On the back, Caley had written, _We shall meet again, Goddess of silence._

She laughed, rolled up the scroll and set it on her bed. It was a treasure that she would always keep.


	2. Chapter 2

**I honestly hadn't intended to continue this story beyond the first chapter. However, Moria and Caley obviously had more to say, so this is another chapter of their story. Who knows if inspiration shall strike again? If it does, there might be more chapters, if not, sorry! Read it? Enjoyed it? Reveiw it!**

Caley entered the clearing that he had begun to think of as home. It seemed he always arrived in eventide and left with the morning light. He doubted he'd ever seen it in the full light of day. In honesty, he almost avoided it at that time, suspecting that the light of day would ruin the magic quality that the grove held.

His thoughts turned to the enigmatic woman that inhabited it. Meeting Moria had been a stroke of luck; one he was fervently grateful for. She was intelligent and beautiful. Even more valuable was her ability to set his creativity free. New stories were constantly found in her company. His bag was full of stories that had come to him while staying with her. One of the most popular stories in town seemed to be the story of Moria, goddess of death.

He wondered absently if she affected everyone so. Though he'd visited her several times in the past several months, he still knew little of her. It didn't help that when he mentioned the Oracle's name in the valleys below the people quickly paled and changed the subject. He knew that she did not hold to many of the customs of the people, but their reaction to her went beyond aversion and he still couldn't figure out why.

His musings were cut short as Aisly, the ewe, ambled up to him and butted her head against his thighs. He leaned down and patted her soft fluffy coat. It was gnarled with grass and twigs so that she looked wild. Her appearance struck him as odd because normally Moria kept her groomed meticulously. "Hello Aisly. Where is your mistress," Caley asked the black sheep. He'd discovered on his first visit that she was extremely intelligent.

The ewe bleated plaintively but remained at his side. This was unusual behavior for her, and it caused Caley to frown. Standing upright, he headed towards the small hut looking for Moria. The silence held thickly around the place, almost as if it was a cover to block the world from entering. His ink stained hand pushed against the wooden gate. It shuddered before opening with a creak. Caley paused before entering the yard.

In his past stays, he'd come to appreciate the comfort of sharing the silence with Moria. However, this silence was different, almost foreboding. It pressed heavily around him, almost as if its intent was to crush him. "Milady Moria?" he called softly before taking another step towards her home. There was no answer. Aisly pressed ahead of him and stood near the door, bleating once more.

* * *

Moria dreamed. The world was black and white, full of life and death. Verdant white trees stood next to withered black ones. The path was covered in grey moss that was as soft to touch as it looked. There was no warm sun or frigid wind, it was simply still. The silence was so thick it was as if it was its own entity. Despite the specter of the bare trees and deserted pathways, Moria felt no fear. It was almost comforting. Her dream-self wandered the deserted woods and swam in the silent river. She felt unfettered from the world of expectations. Smiling at the feeling, she called to her playmate, silence. "Come and let's explore the world beyond the woods." The silence splintered into a thousand pieces and died at her feet.

Moria woke suddenly, shivering. Her thin wool blanket had slipped off her small bed and onto the worn wooden floor. She reached for it and curled up against her headboard trying to cover her whole body in the scratchy material to congregate warmth into her small frame. She had been ill for almost three days now. Each day, the silence pressed more heavily on her, until it felt like a weight lying on her chest. She pondered the difference between the friendly silence from her dream, and the one that covered her now. She wondered briefly if it was really the silence that changed or if it was her? Since Caley had come upon her home, there was less silence and more talk and laughter. The people below still feared her, perhaps even more than before, but it didn't anger her anymore. She simply accepted her fate. When she accepted that, she decided to enjoy the silence instead of hate it. It had become a comfort instead of something to be feared the longer she lived away from the people.

As another shiver coursed through her body, and her thoughts shifted. If she was unable to get the herbs she needed for her fever, she would undoubtedly get sicker than she was presently. She was afraid to leave her home though, as there was a chance that in her present state she would either get lost, or possibly faint. Neither option was appealing. As she swung her feet to the worn wood floor, she wrapped the sable blanket around her. As she stood, she heard Aisly bleating at the door. Normally her ewe was quiet and unobtrusive. Moria immediately was on her guard. Why was she crying like that? Was she hurt? Scared? Was there someone lurking around her home and this was Aisly's way of trying to warn her? Quickly as she could, she made her way into the living room. She kept a gold hilted stiletto above the fireplace for what appeared to be decoration. What many didn't know was that it was dipped in a heavy sedative and hallucinogenic mixture. Grabbing the hilt, she slowly peaked out her windows until she discovered who her intruder was.

Her hand shook as she dropped the stiletto to the floor and unsteadily made her way to the door. Relieved that she would not have to fight an intruder she slowly opened the door. "Caley," she rasped. "I'm sorry you came so far, but I am ill. I cannot invite you in."

* * *

Caley had heard a slight shuffling behind the door. He let out a sigh and forced his notions of the enemy, Silence, to the back of his mind. He'd have plenty of time to make up stories later. Right now, he simply wanted to see his friend. When Moria opened the door, his relief became distress when he took in the usually resplendent Oracle looking sallow and pale. Frowning, he reached out a hand to her forearm. "What are you doing up then?"

She looked blankly at him for a moment, before responding by pointing at the black sheep standing at his feet. "She was crying."

Caley nodded in understanding. "She usually doesn't get so upset. How long have you been ill?"

Too tired to continue standing, Moria leaned heavily against the frame of her door. "Several days," she said wearily.

Caley eyed her for another moment before grabbing her arms and forcing her back into her house. "Sit," he commanded. He looked around him for a moment before he strode back out the door to gather more firewood. The fire in her hearth had long gone cold, and they would need another one started to keep her warm, as well as for cooking. He re-entered the hut to see Moria curled in the same chair she'd sat on the night he'd first met her. She looked less like the Goddess he'd imagined that night and much more like a frail wraith. He did not like to think of her as a creature of death when she had become such a vibrant part of his life. He smirked at the irony of the sable clad, raven haired Moria as being vibrant, but she was. He turned his attention back to the fire and continued to stoke it as his thoughts continued to dwell on the maiden behind him.

After the fire was properly burning, he turned back to Moria. "I'm no oracle or healer, but I know there must be something that can help you. What do you need?"

Moria laughed weakly. "I need herbs to bring down my fever. Unfortunately, they grow in the deep forest a good half hour from here." She looked out the window briefly before looking back at the bard. "It is too late in the day to go now. I shall go in the morning."

"You shouldn't wait until morning, Milady. You have been ill too long."

Caley saw Moria roll her eyes at him calling her Milady. He rarely did it, and it appeared to irk her that he would use the formality when she was already so miserable. Burrowing deeper into her blanket, she sighed. "I'll be fine Caley."

Caley arched his brow as if to say he didn't believe her. Instead of arguing though, he walked into the cooking area of her home, searching for tea, and possibly some food. As he crossed the floor, his foot knocked against something hard and it skittered across the floor. He knelt to see what he'd kicked and found a stiletto glimmering in the dying light. He picked it up by the handle and asked, "what is this doing on the floor?"

Moria bolted upright from her semi-conscious state and looked wide eyed at the knife in his hands. "Did you touch it?" Her voice was louder than before with a sharp edge in it. She cleared her throat as if speaking had hurt.

"It was on the floor, I kicked it." He brought it towards her.

"Put it down now," she commanded.

Puzzled, he set it gingerly on the table. Before he could ask anything else, Moria was at his side, intently examining his hands, legs and feet. A moment later she let out a sigh of relief. "You should know better than to touch anything in an Oracle's home!"

"You're not a real Oracle, Moria. Besides, I'm fine."

"Only because you have no scratches," she replied.

The statement didn't make sense to Caley, but he didn't pursue the subject further. He figured that it was her illness that was causing her lack of coherence. He went back to his task of finding food for them both.

"What are you doing?" she asked wearily.

"Trying to find food." He looked around helplessly. Bards rarely cooked. He'd eat berries and dried meat provided by previous hosts when traveling. Once he was in a town, he would either buy or barter for food from whoever he met. Sighing, he turned back to Moria who was still standing with a glazed look on her face. "What do you have for food?"

She shook herself before walking slightly forward. "Not much, I'm afraid. As I said I've been sick. There's no bread or berries left. I rarely get meat, unless I know you will be here, so..." Her voice trailed off.

Caley frowned again, wondering what to do. He finally decided to use the last bit of the fading light to try to find some berries in the surrounding bushes. "I'll be back," he stated. "Go sit down."

Moria's face scrunched for a moment and Caley thought she'd protest, then he saw her shiver beneath the blanket she'd wrapped herself in. "Fine," she said morosely. Caley grinned at the idea that she was less stubborn when sick. "The best berry bushes are on the north side of the grove. There may be a few nuts in the trees to the east." Caley's grin slid off his face and he felt his jaw drop in surprise. She had turned her back to him and was sitting down again. He continued to watch her in astonishment as she rested her head on the back of her chair and closed her eyes. After another moment of silence, she said, "well go Caley, the light won't last much longer."

Caley cleared his throat and tried to cover his surprise. Moria was skilled at knowing his mind, and this was not the first time she'd mentioned something he was planning on doing but hadn't said anything about; even so, it was still discomfiting. "Of course," he said as he made his way outside. Aisly was grazing by the door, and raised her head as he quickly headed out to the forest.

* * *

Her silence returned as soon as Caley had left the house. It was the friendly silence of her dreams, though. It lulled Moria to sleep as she thought of the brown haired man who was bumbling around her grove at the moment. Breathing deeply, she surrendered to the world of her dreams.

She awoke to someone calling her name. Startled, she sat upright with an oath on her lips. A moment later, the world came into focus. She was in front of her hearth, in her chair, with Caley towering above her. "I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly.

She felt words leave her lips but they came out garbled. Clearing her raw throat, she tried again. "It's alright. How long did I sleep?"

Caley shrugged. "I've been back since just before dark. I've been cooking since then, so for a while I suppose."

Moria finally noticed that her large pot was balanced over the hearth. There was steam rising from it. It wasn't until she took a deep breath that she noticed that she couldn't smell anything. Puzzled, she turned to Caley. "Bards really can't cook if your idea of cooking is boiling water," she said scathingly. Immediately after the words left her mouth, she felt guilty. Even though she was sick and feeling miserable, it was no excuse for disparaging Caley's help. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Caley shrugged, as he went to stir the pot. "It's more than water, Moria, but I know it doesn't have much aroma. It's tea."

Moria narrowed her eyes. "I loathe tea."

Her statement just made Caley grin, "but my dear Oracle, it's no different than the herbs you take."

"And yet, I still loathe it."

Caley ignored her and ladled some tea into a ceramic mug. "Just drink it, Moria. It's good for you." He raised his heavy brows at her in encouragement.

"You are as bad as the stories you tell!" Moria mocked weakly as she accepted the tea. After a few moments of eyeing the drink suspiciously, she took a sip, feeling Caley's eyes on her the entire time.

When the tea was gone, Caley served her a variety of berries and some dumplings. "You'll need something better tomorrow, but this will do for now," he stated as he again stoked the fire and added more wood. For the first time in several days, Moria felt warm. She smiled softly as she stared into the fire. The flames were entrancing, and crackling of the logs gently broke the silence that settled over them. Moria felt her eyes beginning to grow heavy when Caley finally spoke again.

"In the country known to us only as the Dragon lands, there is a stone city. It lies in between the tallest peaks of the mountains. Its name is Rivalin..."

Moria listened sleepily to the story until the sounds of Caley's hypnotic voice lulled her into a gentle slumber.

Several days later, Moria had recovered. She sat on a low wooden bench cleaning Aisly of the twigs and leaves that had become snarled in her coat during Moria's illness. Caley was lounging in the shade of a tree not far from her. His lute sent a soft tune floating into the air around them. Though Moria missed her silence, she decided that a friend that one could talk to was better than one that could not share her thoughts.


End file.
